Sorceress of SeeD
by Solid Shark
Summary: Sorceresses. The thing the elite SeeDs were created to stop. Galbadia: the nation they most commonly fight in their capacity as mercenaries. Rinoa Heartilly, daughter of Galbadia's highest-ranking general... and SeeD cadet. A history at odds with her chosen allegiance. A destiny even more so...


Breathe in. Breathe out. Steady, steady. One foot in front of the other, boots hitting the ground like a metronome, arms pumping with mechanical precision. Automatic adjustments made every few steps, should the scabbard slung across her back shift.

Not that it ever did. The same precision that guided her footfalls, the same long practice behind her smooth jog, went into the placement of her equipment. How many years had it been, she reflected idly, had it been since she first did this?

_Eleven,_ she decided, tossing wind-blown black hair out of her eyes. _Eleven years since I first visited Balamb… wasn't it? Something like that…_

The girl in practical gray t-shirt and exercise shorts knew the route through the Balamb foothills well. It'd been years since her transfer to Galbadia Garden, but every time she came back to Balamb, she made sure to run the old trail. Even now, it was more home to her than the city of bright lights and intrigue that the General had sent her away from all those years ago.

Breathe in. Breathe out. She was coming close to home, now. Perhaps half a kilometer to Garden. Ample time to make it back, shower, and hit Homeroom, with time to rest before the big events of the day. The run was just a pleasant warm up.

She was just cresting a rise when she heard it: the distinctive clash of metal on metal, the unmistakable sounds of combat. Either Balamb had been invaded, or someone was doing some live-weapons training away from prying eyes. Given how close she was to Garden now, the girl figured the latter more likely; no one in their right mind launched an invasion this close to the very center of SeeD.

Slowing her steady pace, the girl automatically checked the crossbow strapped to her left forearm, came to the top of the rise, and dropped prone along the side of the trail, gazing down below. There, in a small dip between the hills, two combatants went for each other with swords, explaining the ring of metal.

_No,_ she thought, catching sight of the coat one of the fighters wore. _Not swords. Gunblades. Hey, Seifer._

No mistaking the gray coat, nor the blood-red, sword-like crosses that adorned its shoulders. Nor yet the slicked-back blonde hair… or the blued steel of Hyperion, the gunblade wielded in a quick, deadly one-handed style. Seifer Almasy, one of Balamb Garden's few gunblade specialists, and perennial headache for the faculty.

The girl knew him well, but even she wondered sometimes how he of all people managed to become head of the Disciplinary Committee.

As Seifer ducked away from a powerful slash from his opponent's heavier blade, the girl focused her attention on that individual. Seifer was tall, and blonde; this one was not much taller than her, dark haired, and wore a lot of black. She identified his weapon as the Revolver model of gunblade, heavier than Hyperion and meant for a brutal two-handed style.

The brunette was launching a series of cleaving slashes at Seifer, and the girl was impressed almost despite herself. Heavy though Revolver was, the short warrior moved with impressive speed, putting his entire body into swinging the gunblade. He couldn't quite match Seifer's fleetness, but he compensated by twisting his body even as he attacked, and Seifer's quick counterattack slid harmlessly beneath his right arm.

The girl thought the dark youth somehow familiar. It took only moments before it clicked: there were a handful of students in Garden attempting to master the exotic gunblade, but from everything she'd heard, only one could hope to fight Seifer Almasy on even terms. She'd seen this cold, stoic fighter from a distance more than once over the years, especially since she transferred back to Balamb in preparation for the field exam. This was just the first time she'd seen him fight.

Watching with renewed interest, the girl saw the brunette charge Seifer, forcing the taller gunblader back. Left, right, up, down, the blows were slower than Seifer's style, but powerful and difficult to interrupt. Hyperion came up to the vertical in response, Seifer bracing his left hand on the blade to ward off the attack. Revolver clanged against Hyperion, again and again, the brunette's ferocity intriguing the girl; even she could see this was no simple training match, and she wondered idly what prompted this grudge-like performance.

A momentary gap appeared in the attack, the brunette having apparently finished the combination. In that tiny instant before another assault could be launched, Seifer leapt back lightly, just a couple of paces- and to the girl's surprise, he lifted his left hand, gathering red light into it.

_Seifer, what do you think you're doing? That's not-_

The burning fury of a simple Fire spell erupted from his palm, slamming into the brunette's Revolver. Hardly enough to injure, especially since he was just as obviously fully-Junctioned as Seifer, but enough to blast him back off his feet. Even from where she lay, the girl could see Seifer begin to grin, and she winced as Hyperion began to lift, his feet crossing the few meters between them in a couple of bounds.

_Don't do this, Seifer,_ she prayed, beginning to rise to her feet. _Whatever this is about, don't _do_ this-!_

The brunette was already recovering from the para-magic attack, but Hyperion was coming down. With a loud _crack,_ it sliced down his face in a spray of blood.

To the girl's astonishment, though, he didn't go down. Wasn't even blown back, despite the power in the blow. Blood dripping from his face, the brunette looked briefly stunned, then furious… and, before an equally startled Seifer and the girl now beginning to run toward them, Revolver swung up from the ground, cutting a line in the dirt, up into the air, and across Seifer's face in turn.

With an equally explosive crack and a second spray of blood, Seifer was flung off his feet, confidence in his victory having cost him his footing. Even as the brunette fell back, succumbing to shock, Seifer hit the ground with a resounding _thud._

Now the girl was there, seconds too late, and she was already digging a first-aid kit from her belt with one hand while the other summoned up the light of a Cure spell. She wished she had something better on hand, but she hadn't exactly expected to stumble on something like _this_ at the end of her run.

"Damn it, Seifer," she breathed, "what were you thinking?" Tossing the spell at him, she knelt by the brunette, pulling bandages out. Full treatment would be Doctor Kadowaki's work -if these two didn't have some brain damage from nearly splitting each other's skulls open, she'd be shocked- but basic first aid was within any SeeD cadet's skills.

Wrapping the brunette's injury carefully, though, the girl did have to admit one thing was beyond her. Even with Junctions, her 163 centimeter self wasn't carrying two near-grown men back to Garden. The stoic gunblader she was tending to now, maybe; Seifer, no way. Both? Totally out of the question.

Once the leather-clad gunblader's head had been bandaged to the best of her ability, she turned her attention to Seifer, simultaneously pulling out her SeeD-issue comm. This close to Garden, the radio interference should be tolerable…

"Garden Medical," she said into the inevitable static. "This is Cadet Rinoa Heartilly. I've got two wounded, training accident. Half a klick southeast of Garden."

There was a brief mutter of voices on the other end, then a sigh. _"This is Kadowaki," _she heard, much to her surprise. _"Let me guess: Squall and Seifer?"_

"Yeah," Rinoa confirmed, still surprised her call went straight to Medical's chief. "If Squall is a gunblade specialist with a lot of leather, anyway."

"_Yes, that's Squall."_ Another sigh. _"Any chance of either of them being ambulatory?"_

Rinoa grimaced; Seifer was groaning a little, but Squall was barely even breathing. "No. They're both unconscious, and I can't carry them both."

Kadowaki didn't sigh this time, but Rinoa suspected she wanted to. _"Not again… Medic team is on the way, Rinoa. Thank you."_

The doctor signed off, leaving Rinoa to wait for the promised backup. "Good grief," she sighed, sitting down with an undignified thump. "It's the day of the field exam, and these two are trying to kill each other. What a way to start the day."

Glancing with fond exasperation at Seifer, she turned her attention to Squall. She'd heard a few rumors about him, mostly that he was extremely skilled and extremely quiet, but she had to admit the reality was impressive. She'd never seen someone match up to Seifer like that, and it actually impressed her that he'd even survived Seifer's attack, let alone with so little damage.

It explained why Seifer was willing to go all-out, at least. Didn't make him any less of an idiot for it, though.

"Just tell me," Rinoa muttered under her breath, "that you won't have to take the exam _again_, Seifer…"

* * *

Rinoa hadn't been to Balamb Garden's Infirmary very much as of yet. Of course, she'd only transferred back to the central Garden a couple of weeks before, but even so, she just wasn't that accident prone these days. Once, maybe, but she hadn't needed Infirmary-level treatment more than once a month or so in years.

_Well, there was that time two years ago… but it wasn't _me_ that really needed the surgery, was it?_

The two she'd helped the medics bring back were another story, judging from Doctor Kadowaki's reaction. Seifer didn't particularly surprise her -she'd known the hotheaded gunblader long enough- but the brunette, Squall… Someone as stoic as he supposedly was, she'd have expected to be more careful.

As the medics laid out the two on beds, Kadowaki sighed and shook her head. "Always those two. Are they ever gonna learn…?"

Rinoa cleared her throat. "This happen often?"

"About once a month. If I'm lucky." The overweight but affable doctor allowed herself another sigh. "You just transferred here from Galbadia, right? Trust me, it's a rare _week_ these two don't butt heads. This kind of damage is about once a month, but there's always something. Training 'accidents', somebody 'accidentally' letting a few grats out of the training center… That kind of thing."

"Huh." Rinoa winced, remembering some of her instructors. "They'd get in serious trouble for that at my old Garden."

"Balamb's more relaxed than Galbadia," Kadowaki said with a shrug. "Besides, these two are… Well, if you ask around, you'll find just about everybody thinks they're the best. If they can just work out their attitude problems, maybe even the faculty will agree." She snorted. "That'll be the day… Anyway, thanks for your help. Who knows what might've happened if you hadn't stumbled across them."

"I was just passing through," the SeeD candidate admitted. "Saw Seifer, and, well… I know him." _A little too well,_ she added silently. _Yeesh._

"Then you _know_ him." The doctor nodded sagely. "Yep. So, you're participating in the field exam this week, right?"

Rinoa nodded. The field exam… The final step to becoming a SeeD. The written exam could be completed at Galbadia or Trabia Garden, and the students who were using Garden as training for regular military or security companies could graduate from anywhere. The field exam, though, the proof that you had the "right stuff" to become one of the elite mercenaries Garden was famous for, happened only once a year, and only from Balamb Garden.

You needed to complete the written exam, have proven your basic combat abilities, and to obtain a low-level Guardian Force in trial-by-combat. The last requirement, Rinoa knew, was the _real_ critical prerequisite for the field exam, for it was GF that made SeeD what it was.

Galbadia Garden, perhaps because of its focus on training soldiers for regular military, made comparatively little use of GF. Trabia, she'd heard, liked to experiment with increasing the power of para-magic without full Junctions. Balamb used them extensively, which was probably another reason -besides its status as prime Garden- that the field exam was always launched from there.

SeeDs could begin at any Garden, but most common by far were those who spent their entire training time right in Balamb.

"You've got all the prerequisites, right?" Kadowaki asked now.

"Yeah." Rinoa grimaced. As a SeeD cadet, being handed a literal magic lamp and told "Be careful" was both ominous and almost routine. Hadn't made dealing with a gravity-manipulating demon any more pleasant. "I've got Diablos now, and I finished the written exam just before I transferred."

"Good. I'm not sure this guy's ready… Brilliant, but lazy." The doctor shook her head, shrugging with resignation. "Thanks again, Rinoa. Go get some rest; if the scuttlebutt about the exam is right, you'll be going by ship, and those assault craft aren't very restful."

"So I've heard. I'll do that, Doctor." Nodding her thanks, Rinoa turned and headed out of the Infirmary, still bemused by the gunbladers' antics. Just hours before the deployment for the field exam, and they were trying to kill each other.

_No wonder Seifer keeps failing the exam. They should try making him captain or something… No. No, let's not even _think_ about that. Let's just go get a shower, and pray we don't get teamed with him for the exam._

Rinoa was most of the way out of the Infirmary, mind already on the refreshing water, when there was a whisper of cloth going past, and the briefest glimpse of an ethereal girl in white and green. She paid little mind, but then-

"Hi, Rin."

She came to a dead stop, brain locking up for a second. _…Rin…? Why… why does that sound…?_

Rinoa shook herself, whirling to find who'd spoken, but she was already alone. As if the girl who'd spoken had never been there.

* * *

Leaving the Infirmary behind her, Rinoa quickly put the odd encounter out of her mind. It was a beautiful day, the field exam was coming up, and it was far more restful for her soul to look around the Garden itself.

Her running shoes clopping gently down the corridor linking the Infirmary to the main building, Rinoa marveled again at the structure that was Balamb Garden. An architectural style she'd not seen anywhere but the Gardens themselves, Balamb was a place of peace, all languid curves; much as the attitude of the denizens, the very building was soothing.

Curves, swells, blues and whites. She smiled to herself, comparing it to the Garden she'd transferred from, that oppressively red and regimented place. Some of the same curves, but a harsher palette, and instructors more like those in a regular military academy than the more scholarly types found here; Balamb's teaching was no less effective, but had always felt to her more like combat-capable history professors.

Despite her own background, and the reason she had chosen to join SeeD in the first place, Rinoa rather preferred Balamb Garden's arrangement. She'd never _quite_ lost the disposition she'd had as a child, after all… Not quite.

Breaking into a light jog, Rinoa weaved in and out through the crowd of students, faculty, and occasional SeeDs with practiced ease, emerging into the main lobby of Garden. Here, too was one of the major differences between Gardens: Galbadia, she was sure, would never have even contemplated the pools of water and dolphin-like fountains that ringed the central "spine" of Balamb. It was pure decoration, no purpose at all.

_A team of monster hockey players, sure. Something that just looks nice and helps students relax after a hard day? Of course not!_

She spared a moment to wave at one of the junior classmen, a cheerful fellow with a fondness for that Triple Triad game that was all the rage for card players these days (and whom she happened to know was years ahead of most of the age group in hand to hand combat), and turned left onto the main path through the lobby. A dozen or so paces, and she passed the Quad; she recalled hearing a group of students had been trying to get some kind of "Garden Festival" going for years now, and wondered idly how well that was going.

_Hah. Imagine trying something like _that_ at Galbadia. I suppose Master Martine might not object, but the instructors… Hoo boy._

Passing the cafeteria now, Rinoa made a mental note to grab a snack after homeroom. There wouldn't be much of a chance after that, in the rush before the field exam, and she knew that while the assault craft would have field rations, they wouldn't be very tasty. _Probably too late for hot dogs today,_ she thought sadly, _but there oughtta be something decent left._

She approached the dormitory wing with some relief. As much as she enjoyed a revitalizing jog, especially in the soothing environs of Balamb Garden, she'd already _done_ her run for the day. Sometimes, this Garden was just too _big._

The dorm was another of the luxuries Balamb had over Galbadia, and one of the major reasons Rinoa still regretted her transfer from time to time, even after seven years. Galbadia Garden was bigger, but because it actually had _more_ students going through because of their focus on training for outside forces, it resulted in barracks-style accommodations that meant a cramped lifestyle she'd never liked.

Here, back at the Garden she'd started at all those years ago, she had to share her living space with only one other student, and there was even a partition of sorts, allowing some semblance of privacy. If all went well in the next couple of days, she would have a room entirely to herself, but even this was a godsend.

Ducking into that private place, Rinoa reflected she even had congenial company, if a bit…

"Hi, Rinoa!"

…Excitable.

"Hi, Selphie," Rinoa replied with a tired smile. Her energetic brunette of a roommate was already back from whatever morning excursions she indulged in, and was just finishing buttoning her uniform blouse, the biggest set of nunchaku in the universe draped over one shoulder.

Selphie Tilmitt, a short, spunky girl just in from Trabia. Having also arrived just recently for the field exam, she and Rinoa had probably ended up as roommates out of sheer bureaucratic convenience, but it had worked out well enough. Selphie was excitable, but good company, and a nice change from the sort of girls she'd bunked with in Galbadia.

She was also one of the few cadets Rinoa had met who approached her own skill was magic, and anyone who forgot Junctions made muscles a fairly meaningless measure of SeeD's strength was liable to get their skull crushed. In the two weeks the transfer students had known one another, Rinoa had already seen Selphie squash a grat like a giant boot.

"So, whatcha doin'?" Selphie asked, finishing with her last button. "You're usually back earlier, especially on a day like this!"

"Ran into a training accident on my way back," Rinoa said. Stepping past to drop onto her bed, she sighed. "Seifer and that other gunblade specialist everybody talks about. Tried to take each other's heads off just as I was going by, so I was the lucky girl who had to call in medivac. You?"

"Training center. Trying for that T-Rexaur… It still keeps getting away!" The shorter girl pouted, and Rinoa stifled a laugh. Considering that even for SeeDs, one of the enormous lizards was quite the challenge, she always thought it more likely the beast Selphie was just an insect too likely to sting on her way down to be a decent snack. Even so, for a week she'd been at it.

"And now? Getting a head start on homeroom?"

"Uh-uh. Cafeteria; I missed breakfast for that…"

Rinoa couldn't resist a smile. Normal girls, she was sure, wouldn't be so blasé about hunting a reptile the size of a house with teeth like steak knives. "Well, try not to be late. Today's the field exam, remember."

"I know, don't worry. Catch you later!"

The spunky girl dashed off, leaving Rinoa to shake her head. She'd been accused of too much cheer a time or two, but Selphie…

Smiling again, Rinoa doffed her t-shirt and ducked into the small bathroom typical of the double dorm rooms.

Fifteen minutes later, suitably refreshed, she came back into the main room, and considered her choice of clothing. She glanced longingly at the gray field jacket hanging on the wall, red crosses on its shoulders; Seifer, she was sure, would wear the same thing he always did to the exam. She didn't remember the last time she'd seen him in uniform at all.

_Actually, have I _ever_ seen him in uniform? Even for Balamb, it's amazing what they let him get away with…_

Regretfully, Rinoa passed up the jacket and the outfit associated with it. It was a warm jacket, originally surplus from Galbadian troops stationed in the north, but today… Well, she wasn't Seifer. Didn't even care to be like him anymore, for all that she kept the red crosses on her shoulders. The uniform it was.

The dark blue, gray-trimmed uniform of a SeeD cadet wasn't so bad anyway, she mused as she pulled it on. It wasn't as warm as her field jacket, but combined with Junctions it was pretty good all-weather gear, and was woven with a thin layer of antiballistic fiber. SeeD only used uniforms in the field for the flashier missions, but they made sure it was good for it.

_And like Seifer or not,_ Rinoa thought with a small smile, _you can't say I'm exactly a teacher's pet, either._ Fastening the uniform jacket over the trousers of a male cadet uniform, she slipped the small pistol she favored as a backup weapon into the holster at her waist. It was usually the only weapon she carried within Garden itself, being less awkward than the sword or crossbow in safer circumstances.

_I always did think skirts on a battlefield were stupid,_ she thought, and stepped back out of the dorm.

* * *

In Galbadia Garden, the lead-up to something as big as the field exam -and they did have them, in the form of large-scale exercises- would've been a more regimented affair. The Garden would've been bustling, and what classes there were would've been intensely disciplined.

Balamb? As Rinoa made her way back through the lobby, nothing was really any different. Still casual meanderings, still idle chatter. At the most, you'd think a field trip to a museum was going to get underway. Of course, she knew when it actually came time to move out, there'd be more structure, but Balamb saw no reason to get all tense any earlier than they had to.

The classroom on the second level of Garden, up the central spine's elevator, was no different. Two columns of desks, mounted with the same kind of computer terminals you could find in any school. The instructor's desk likewise looked like it belonged in a high school.

The students already present when Rinoa entered were a bit more of a mixed bag. Casual as Balamb Garden was, she'd noticed there was still quite a large percentage of the student body that preferred wearing uniforms most of the time. Not nearly all, but a lot; to be fair, she had to admit even the cadet uniforms were pretty stylish.

Personally, she favored a more casual outfit herself. She admitted, though, that that might be lingering resentment over the past, and the simple fact that the uniforms weren't as warm as she preferred.

Nodding to a couple of students she had a passing familiarity with, Rinoa made her way to one of the seats in the back, settled in, and waited for the instructor to arrive. Casting an idle glance over those already present, she noted Seifer was already there; predictably, he wore his coat, with no trace of uniform. His face was set in a scowl.

There was also a new scar marring that scowl, running from lower right to upper left across the bridge of his nose.

_That Squall guy's work, huh? And he's already got the bandages off… Huh. Guess my spell did some good._

Noticing her gaze, Seifer turned his head, his scowl briefly replaced with a smirk. Clearly, he'd heard who got him the medical assistance, and maybe even who had jumpstarted the healing that left him only with a nifty scar instead of severe blood loss.

Rinoa rolled her eyes and ostentatiously turned her attention from him. _Don't read too much into that, Seifer. Things aren't any different now than they were then. And if I'd thought you'd take it that way, I'd have let you bleed a little longer._

The classroom door opened again with a whoosh, giving her just the distraction she needed: the other party from the morning's excitement had arrived, still wearing a lot of leather. Surprisingly enough, his face was also unbandaged, revealing a scar that mirrored Seifer's; Kadowaki, she supposed, was as skilled as ever.

_Squall, huh?_ Rinoa thought, watching the dark cadet cross to his own desk, a couple spaces ahead of hers. _Wow, and I thought Seifer liked the dour look. This guy looks like he's never smiled in his life._

Squall Leonhart's gunblade was in evidence, sheathed in a scabbard at his waist; more practical, she supposed, than Seifer's method, which she'd never quite figured out but seemed to have something to do with his coat. That both always carried them didn't surprise her. She knew Seifer's "dream" well enough, and any rival of his was probably cut from similar cloth.

On the whole, someone who dressed in that much black and leather, and who wore such a perpetual look of gloom, would normally merit a dismissal from Rinoa's attention. People like that, in her experience, liked to brood, without actually trying to do anything to improve their own situation.

Still… people like that didn't tend to focus on a weapon like the gunblade. Or, rather, might try it out because it fit the "brooding, self-sufficient loner" image, but never be more than a poser with it. This guy, Rinoa had seen with her own eyes, had pursued the art of the gunblader with such determination that he rivaled Seifer Almasy, who was probably the most dangerous individual she'd ever known.

More, this brooding gunblader had been recognized as a rival by Seifer, and as many issues as Rinoa had with the smug blonde, she knew better than anyone that he was anything but shallow. He'd never waste his time clashing blades with a one-dimensional social defective, skilled or not.

And… something about those blue eyes of his… Rinoa Heartilly was no love-starved twit, but she thought she could see something in those eyes…

* * *

Squall Leonhart's mood was introspective as he entered the classroom. Introspective, and mildly irate. Not, of course, that either of these were unusual for him.

_Of all days to pull this, Seifer, it was today?_ he thought, glancing briefly the blonde gunblader; the smirk on the other's face, directed at another cadet, didn't improve Squall's disposition. _On the day of the field exam…_

Sure, he thought grumpily, crossing to his desk, he could've taken Kadowaki's oft-repeated advice and not risen to Seifer's provocation. Could've told Seifer to save it for after the exam, and walked away. He'd heard that kind of advice often over the years, especially just about every time he ran into the Garden Faculty.

No, scratch that. Had one of _them_ been in his position, _they_ could've walked away. Not Squall. Not where Seifer was concerned. Their feud was something that he couldn't simply stand back from, not and remain himself. Even if it meant nearly losing his head on the day of the field exam that would determine his fate from here on.

_Still. His timing…_

Squall's thoughts trailed off. Just as he reached his desk, he finally followed the direction of Seifer's smirk: a raven-haired girl sitting a few seats behind Squall's own. Normally, he wouldn't have cared, but… Maybe it was the fact that he'd never seen Seifer so much as glance twice at any girl other than Instructor Trepe, and her only because he got along with her about as well as he did with Squall.

So maybe it was Seifer's unusual attention. Maybe it was the brown highlights in the girl's hair, matching her eyes (unlikely, since Squall had never felt particularly interested in such features before). Maybe it was the fact that she, alone of the female student's he'd seen over the years, favored the male uniform.

Whatever it was, even Squall acknowledged the girl was… unusual. It made him wonder idly why he'd never seen her before; she was certainly distinctive enough.

…_You know what? Whatever. It's got nothing to do with me if Seifer's got something going on._

Firmly putting the matter out of his mind, Squall slid into his seat. Just in time, too, as the door opened one more time, admitting his long-suffering instructor and driving girls and Seifer's social life out of his thoughts entirely.

* * *

Rinoa had seen Instructor Quistis Trepe around Garden fairly often by now, and of course sat through her homeroom lessons several times. Two weeks, plus the handful of times she'd seen Quistis on prior visits to Balamb, weren't really enough to form a strong impression, but Rinoa admitted she was impressed by the instructor's poise.

A blonde of a darker shade than Seifer, blue eyes paler than Squall's, neat oval glasses. Hair tied up in a bun, bangs reaching down the front of her immaculate uniform in the black and deep blue of a full SeeD. She'd become a SeeD at the almost unprecedented young age of fifteen, and an instructor just two years later, she had the poise and outward confidence expected of such a prodigy.

Even so, Rinoa also had to admit something about the instructor rubbed her the wrong way, like there was something about Quistis that wasn't quite what the surface suggested. It was only a feeling, and she _had_ only known the instructor for a couple of weeks, but still. Something.

Rinoa didn't quibble with her abilities as a teacher, though, so she leaned forward attentively when Quistis settled into her chair.

"Good morning, everyone," Quistis began. "There's not much to cover today, for reasons most of you have probably heard by now, but it's important. I know rumors have been flying around for a couple of weeks now, especially with the couple of transfer students arriving, so yes, I can confirm the field exam begins this afternoon."

_Not that anybody was doubting it,_ Rinoa thought to herself. _Balamb's written exam was last week, and Selphie and I got here a week before that. I doubt anybody had much trouble figuring out the timing._

"Remember, only those who passed last week's written exam will be participating." Quistis swept her gaze over her class, giving several students sympathetic looks. "Those who failed, and those who have not yet taken the exam, will still have your chance next time. In the meantime, expect a few days of light work; the instructors will be busy with the field exam. Just don't slack off!"

A few days? That piqued Rinoa's interest. SeeD's assault craft were quite fleet; just how far a field _was_ this year's exam? She might've expected -hoped, anyway- Timber, given how fractious that area had been for the last fifteen or twenty years, but that should've been two days, tops, by assault craft.

"To those of you who _are_ participating in the exam, you're free until 1600. Make sure your gear and Junctions are in good shape by then, and get some rest. I'll announce the team assignments at 1600; meet in the lobby by the directory then." Quistis paused, adjusted her glasses. "Oh, yes. Seifer!"

Seifer glanced up with a languid smirk, one which Rinoa suddenly had the urge to wipe off his face. By surgically removing his lips, if necessary.

Quistis, by her expression, wasn't especially amused, either. "I don't want a repeat of this morning, Seifer. Do _not_ injure your partner in training again, _especially_ not on the day of a mission. Understand me?"

From the look on his face, smirk twisting abruptly back to scowl, Rinoa wondered if that was the first time someone had actually called him out on what Kadowaki implied to be a fairly regular occurrence. The way he promptly slammed his fist into his desk suggested it might be.

_Couldn't have bothered him _too_ much, though; he didn't break it. Or maybe he just doesn't have the gil to pay for repairs right now?_

Quistis nodded, a trace of resignation on her face but her point evidently made. Either he'd obey, or he'd eventually end up in detention, Rinoa figured. Either way, there probably wasn't much Quistis could do to enforce her order.

Good enough to be a SeeD at fifteen or not, nobody in their right mind pressed Seifer Almasy without backup.

"All right, then. Field exam participants, I'll see you all at 1600. Until then, class dismissed."

The class immediately began to disperse, led by Seifer, whose cloud of irritation combined with his height and reputation to allow him first access to the door. He did spare another, very brief smirk for Rinoa, but she ignored him. On the surface, anyway; she pointedly tapped the grip of her pistol, her gaze just as pointedly fixed straight ahead.

Once he was out of the room, she moved to follow, noting without surprise a trio of students hanging back. The Trepies, she thought they called themselves; the instructor's very own fan club. That might've been one of the things about Quistis that Rinoa didn't care for, but as far as she'd been able to determine the older girl was hardly even aware of the group's existence.

_Besides, it looks like she's got someone else on her mind,_ Rinoa mused.

Just as she slipped out the door, she heard Quistis speaking one last time. "I need to talk to you, Squall. I understand you haven't been to the Fire Cavern yet…"

That was all she heard before the door closed, but it was enough to make Rinoa roll her eyes. The Fire Cavern, if she remembered right, was home to the Guardian Force Ifrit, and so the location of choice for Balamb Garden students completing the "acquire Guardian Force by beating it into submission" prerequisite.

_It's the day of the field exam, and he hasn't even done that? …Yeah. Sounds like someone who'd fight with Seifer, all right. They must be so much alike, beneath those scowls, that they think the world isn't big enough for two of them…_

* * *

Following up on her earlier intention, Rinoa took the elevator back down from the second level and headed for the cafeteria. There'd be plenty of rations on the assault craft, carefully made to keep soldiers going in the field, but one thing they weren't was tasty.

_Chalk one up for any Garden: for military academies, they've got darn good cafeteria food._

Well, the General had always said an army ran on its stomach. He'd been wrong about a lot of things, in Rinoa's estimation, but he knew soldiers like no one else.

Even a handful of hours before the launch of the field exam, the Garden cafeteria was cheery and relaxed. The "lunch ladies" -whom Rinoa knew full well could bench press their lunch _counters_- were chatting with students, students were congregating at the tables, and there even seemed to be a card tournament going on toward the north end.

There was also a meeting of Trepies, from the look of it, but she'd learned early to ignore them. Their particular brand of crazy was harmless enough, and she'd heard they were still capable of focusing in the field.

_If we were normal, we wouldn't any of us be here,_ she mused, approaching one of the counters. _Balamb Garden… home for misfit orphans, just like me._

"Hi, Steph," she said, greeting one of the servers.

"Hey, Rinoa." In the last couple weeks, this particular young woman had gotten used to seeing Rinoa around, strange uniform choice and all. "The usual, right?"

"Yeah, but toss in an energy drink. I'll need it."

Steph nodded knowingly. "The field exam, yeah? The cadets always want a little more energy before they go. Here ya go… Oh, look who it is!"

Accepting the tray of food -a light mix of sandwiches, crackers, and cheese- Rinoa glanced over to see another student walking in. Well, more like rushing, somewhat reminding her of a freight train with no warning whistle.

A regular SeeD cadet uniform, but jacket unfastened and with short sleeves. Tough leather gloves, marking him as an unarmed combat specialist. More strikingly, a jagged black tattoo on the left side of his face, and though blonde like about half the students she'd seen at Balamb Garden, it was the _craziest_ hair Rinoa had seen here.

Blinking at his appearance and energetic arrival, she watched him skid to a stop in front of another server. "Do… do you have any… hot dogs left?" he panted.

_Hot dogs…? Oh!_Rinoa giggled to herself. _It's him._

The server smiled sadly, familiar with the routine. "Sorry, you're just a couple minutes late. Try lunch time, tomorrow?"

"Aw, hell, not again…"

Dejected, the muscular blonde hung his head and trudged a few paces away. Then, energy suddenly returning, he broke into a run again, barreling out of the cafeteria at the same speed he'd arrived with.

Almost bowling over three other arrivals in the process.

Rinoa could almost feel the sneer as a physical force. "Running in the corridors," the trio's leader muttered. "He's in violation… again. Raijin, Fuujin. Track him down."

"Yo!"

"AFFIRMATIVE."

Two of the three, a dark-skinned youth with bigger muscles than the blonde and a gray-haired young lady with an eye patch, darted off in pursuit. Not exactly slowly themselves, Rinoa thought with amusement.

An amusement that mostly died when she made eye contact with the leader.

"Well. Fancy meeting you here, Rinoa."

"Sheer coincidence, Seifer. We all need to eat." Rinoa made her way toward the tables, but this time didn't pretend not to notice his existence. "You're one to talk about being in violation, though, aren't you? Zell's no worse than you are."

"That hurts, Rinoa." Seifer followed at a discrete distance, but made no attempt to close the gap. "He's just reckless; he could hurt himself, or others."

"And you wouldn't?" She let her gaze drift to the fresh scar on his face. A pointed drift.

He shrugged ostentatiously. "Training's one thing, and you know it. You take your chances. Running in the corridors, now, that's just a public safety hazard."

"At least he knows how to follow orders." Rinoa slid into a seat, having picked an isolated table; she had no particular desire to publicize her rift with Seifer.

"What, you mean you've worked with him before?"

"No," she admitted, annoyed at the smirk that prompted. "But he can't be any worse than you."

"Come on, Rinoa, you know me. I never disobey an order without a reason." Seifer crossed his arms, a pose that had sent many a SeeD cadet into therapy in the past. "There's always a purpose."

"I won't deny that. It's just your purpose isn't always the mission's." Rinoa sighed, picking up a sandwich. "Look, Seifer, I just want a bite to eat before the mission. Shouldn't you be getting ready? Who knows, maybe they'll make you captain this time, and you won't have to worry about anyone else's orders at all."

He smiled. "And maybe you'll end up in my squad and have to take _mine._ Or," he continued, a sudden thought occurring to him, "maybe _you'll_ be a captain, too, and we get to see which of us is better at it."

"Hyne forbid. I've got enough on my plate." Pointedly, she took a bite out of the sandwich. "Maybe _you'll_ end up with Zell as your captain."

That did it. Seifer's smile vanished. "Don't even _say_ that," he warned. Turning on his heel, he stalked over to the lunch counters, leaving her in peace.

_Finally. If I'd known the Zell card would work, I'd have tried that _years_ ago…_

* * *

With lunch out of the way, homeroom behind her, and no further sign of Seifer -_Playing the Zell card must've really gotten to him,_ she thought with considerable amusement- Rinoa was free to return to her dorm room. Nothing more to do till the cadets assembled in the lobby for departure, leaving her a good three hours to finish getting ready.

She still didn't know exactly where the field exam would be held, nor what the conditions would be, but she didn't expect the actual fighting to last more than a couple of days; SeeD took on some of the toughest missions in the world, and their cadets were expected to learn to deal with that, but they still took pains not to overdo it with the rookies. Nevertheless, stuff happened, and SeeD knew as well as any professional military that no plan survived contact with the enemy. In fact, if she remembered right, Seifer's second field exam had taken something like a week, due to an unexpected blizzard.

_So. Let's not skimp on the ammo._

For some missions, even SeeD went with the kind of full combat gear a regular military would, but those operations were few and far between. They were, after all, an elite special force that charged top gil for its services, and their specialty was covert operation and blitzkrieg warfare. Lightweight combat gear with their basic uniforms wasn't uncommon, and considering how much time SeeD teams actually spent in mufti, they had a variety of low-profile gear.

Rinoa herself typically favored that approach, and maintained a personal set of gear tailored to the situation. Tossing her uniform jacket on her bed -sparing a brief moment to finger the ring that hung on a thin chain around her neck- she took a light tactical vest from a locker and settled it into place. Four narrow pouches, two on each side of the chest, carried spare magazines for her pistol; other SeeDs might've carried more, but she considered the pistol to be a weapon of last resort.

After checking each of the pouches and the mags they held, she undid her belt long enough to slide the holster off it. Pulling out a second belt from the same locker from which she'd taken the vest, she fastened it around her waist, and buckled the thigh straps on the tactical holster riding the gunbelt.

Turning her attention back to the discarded holster, Rinoa retrieved the pistol from it and took a moment to look it over. Like the field jacket she wished she was wearing, the battered handgun was Galbadian surplus: an old MilSpec Army Model 1941, chambered in good old .45 caliber. Old but reliable, she suspected this particular piece dated back almost that far, and she preferred it to the higher velocity and lighter-weight -and smaller caliber- pistols the Galbadian army used these days.

She didn't actually care for pistols, especially, but she'd known since she was four years old that sometimes it was the best weapon to have on hand, like in the interior of a crashed car in the middle of an insurrection…

Shaking off old, mostly faded memories, Rinoa slipped the .45 into her tactical holster, and checked the ammo and equipment pouches also hanging from the gunbelt. Unlike her vest, these didn't contain bullet-filled magazines, but rather cartridges of crossbow bolts. Only fifteen centimeters long and two millimeters in diameter, each cartridge carried a dozen of them, and she had half a dozen spares on that belt.

She retrieved her jacket then, and tugged it on over her tac vest. Over that, she quickly strapped the small, semiautomatic crossbow that typically rode her left wrist. Small, but with a heavy draw; those two-millimeter bolts would punch through almost any modern body armor, and if they needed a keen eye to hit a spot important enough to drop the target, well, that's what SeeDs _did._

Unlike the pistol, Rinoa found the crossbow to be much to her tastes, giving her adequate midrange combat ability without resorting to para-magic _or_ firearms. If she had time to really aim with it, it even made a decent long-range weapon, for a given value of long.

What Rinoa had always considered her strong point as a SeeD -_Okay, SeeD_ cadet- was her ability to fight well at a variety of ranges. She'd known cadets, and for that matter full SeeDs, who were lethal at close or far, or with a good dose of para-magic, but all too many of them stumbled when out of their specialty. To her, a SeeD should be well-rounded.

Which didn't mean she didn't have a preference of her own, and that preference was central to her Limit Break, that individualized burst of power that the best soldiers and mages of the world mastered. A preference that at this moment hung on a hook above her bed.

A longsword, lighter -and by far simpler- than Seifer or especially Squall's gunblades. Taking the leather-wrapped wooden scabbard down, Rinoa slung it over her back, and drew the deceptively narrow blade. Its leather-wrapped hilt was long enough for two hands but short enough to be comfortably wielded in one; the silver cross guard was thick but short, and the white-laced black blade was around a meter and a third, but narrower even than Seifer's Hyperion.

Letters inscribed and filled with pure silver along the black blade, however, proclaimed _Sic Semper Tyrannis,_ and it wasn't an idle threat. Rinoa could easily wield the sword she usually called Tyrannis with one hand, but that was only thanks to her Junctions. It was made of a Damascus-Orihalcon alloy and weighed a good three kilos; not insurmountable, but certainly not something someone her size _without_ Junctions would be very comfortable with even two-handed.

She'd had the weapon for a good seven years now, and knew it like a part of her own body. Alone, it was deadly; combined with her other specialty, it made her Limit uniquely lethal.

Giving it a few practice swings, Rinoa slipped Tyrannis back into its scabbard, and was about to turn her attention inward when a herd of Mesmerizes arrived with a clatter. _At least,_ she thought wryly, _she _sounds_ like a herd of them. Are all Trabians like that?_

"Hi, Rinoa!" the spunky cadet caroled, swinging into the room.

"Hi, Selphie." Rinoa shook her head, hands on her hips. "You know, Seifer just sent his cronies after another student for running in the halls a few minutes ago. You might want to take it easy."

Selphie stuck out her tongue. "Have to catch me first! Raijin's too slow."

"And Fuujin?"

"Too busy kicking Raijin for being too slow!"

"…Okay, you got me there." In fact, Rinoa suspected that was probably the result of their chase of Zell Dincht, now that Selphie mentioned it. "Say… I didn't see you at Homeroom. Did you…?"

The brunette stuck out her tongue again, ruefully this time. "…I got lost again," she admitted reluctantly. "This is so _big_ compared to my last Garden! But hey," Selphie continued, "maybe I won't get lost anymore. I bumped into a guy coming out, and he gave me a hand." She bopped the side of her head, sheepish. "…Would you believe I didn't even know about the directory in the lobby?"

_Yeah, I actually would, somehow. Still…_ "Don't be too hard on yourself," Rinoa advised. "You've only been here two weeks."

"Yeah, but _you_ don't get lost!"

"No, but I started out here," she reminded her roommate. "And I've visited several times since I transferred. You were at Trabia pretty much from the start, right?"

"About as far back as I can remember," Selphie confirmed. "Anyway! Let's make sure we're ready for the exam. I think the guy who helped me hadn't even finished the prerequisites; can you believe it?"

_Hadn't finished…? No way. The guy she met was…?_

"Some people just don't have their priorities straight, Selphie," Rinoa said wisely. "We do. Now, I've gotta check my Junctions, so…"

"Gotcha." Selphie nodded cheerfully and ducked into her half of the room, leaving the swordswoman to her own mind.

That was, in the end, what it came down to with Junctions. Anyone could use para-magic with a little training, but it took a bond with a Guardian Force to Junction that magic to one's own body. The trademark of Balamb Garden's SeeDs was the enhancement of the body through applied para-magic, using the GF as a conduit, and the GF was, functionally, a chunk of sapient magic housed in a part of the wielder's brain.

Rinoa had known of SeeDs who Junctioned more than one GF at a time, had even met one who had _five_ stuck in his head, but she herself had never held more than two, and had a marked preference for only one. More than that, she gathered, took some training to get a handle on, and she hadn't really needed to yet.

Over the years, she'd used a variety of extremely simple GF provided by Garden; she had particularly fond memories of the two years she'd Junctioned Sylph, in the early days of Galbadia's limited experiments with them. Only in past half year, though, had she finally partnered with a GF commensurate with a soon-to-be full SeeD.

Someone, Rinoa reflected with some dark amusement, had clearly been paying attention to her record, because the GF within the magic lamp she'd been handed had fit all too well with the most infamous incident of her student career at Galbadia Garden. Someone who either had a healthy sense of gallows humor, or a very dispassionate view of things.

Either way, as appropriate as it may have been, waking up a demonic incarnation of the force of gravity in its own pocket realm had been one of the more unnerving experiences of Rinoa's life. Especially when it became clear Diablos didn't really want to be disturbed.

_Glad he decided I was "worthy", in the end,_ she reflected, and turned her mind inward. She sought contact with the demonic GF, and through him to take stock of her own Junctions. For something as important to her future as the field exam, she was taking no chances on being caught unprepared, physically or magically.

Even if looking over Junctions did seem to take mind-numbing hours sometimes.

* * *

In the end, at least Rinoa had had time for a short nap between checking her gear and reporting to the lobby. Communing with a Guardian Force could be draining; communing with one as antisocial as Diablos, however much mutual respect might exist between them, was worse than usual. She needed the rest.

To be sure, there would be plenty of time with nothing to do _but_ sleep, on the way to wherever the field exam would be taking place, but Rinoa knew from personal experience that SeeD's assault boats weren't very restful. Sleep, sure. Sleep _well? _Iffier proposition, that.

Instructor Trepe was waiting when she arrived in the lobby, carrying a clipboard; the dark gunblader Squall was just coming around the opposite curve of the lobby himself. He'd changed into a uniform, too, but hadn't really changed anything else. His jacket was open, and he still wore the strange pendent Rinoa had noticed before; as before, he carried his hefty gunblade, but hadn't added any other weapons.

_Confident, is he? …Well, if he's made it to the field exam without any instructors calling him on it, he probably does know what he's doing. And, heck, it's not like Seifer is going to be any different, and you _know_ he's good enough to get away with it._

Quistis glanced between the two cadets as they approached. "You two are early. Getting a jump on things? …Whatever," she added, when Squall started to open his mouth.

Squall shot her an irritated look, and Rinoa had the sudden urge to giggle unprofessionally. Quistis, clearly, knew the gunblader very well. Too well, apparently, for his own comfort.

"Anyway," the instructor went on with an artful cough, "I might as well get started. Headmaster Cid will be giving the real sendoff in a few minutes, so I'll start with the team assignments. Squall, you know Zell Dincht, right? Lively fellow, top of the class in unarmed combat…"

"Lively?" Squall planted a hand on one hip, rolling his eyes. "He's just loud." He might've grimaced faintly; his minimal facial expressions made it hard for Rinoa to tell. Either way, he clearly saw where Quistis was going. "No chance of switching?"

Quistis hid a smile behind her clipboard. "Sorry; the team choices are above my pay grade. The faculty makes selections for a reason, and they can't be changed… Ah, speaking of whom." A small crowd of students was approaching, and she'd caught sight of one in particular. "Zell Dincht! Over here!"

Hearing his name called, the boisterous blonde waved, started jogging forward, and launched abruptly into a series of flips, ending with a spinning kick whose contortions made Rinoa's joints ache just watching. He came out of it with a flourish, a thumbs-up, and a grin bright enough to blind.

"Yo!" Zell called, just as loud as he was energetic. He looked over the students already there, and his grin grew wider. "Hey, Squall and the new girl! I'm teamed with you guys? Sweet!"

He held out a hand toward Squall, as if expecting it to be shaken. An expectation which, perhaps, showed a lack of familiarity, all things considered.

Rinoa felt another giggle coming on, looking at Squall's face. _Yep. Lively's the word. But so is loud, I'll admit it._

Quistis coughed. "Ahem. Actually, Zell, you're half right. You and Squall are on Squad B, but, ah… Rinoa is Squad A. Captain of Squad A, I mean."

For a second, it didn't even really register. Rinoa heard "Squad A", and at first wondered whether or not to be grateful she wasn't going to be on the same team as Seifer's bitter rival. On the one hand, Squall was obviously good in a fight; on the other, she wasn't sure she wanted to deal with whatever his problem with Seifer was. Especially if, by some mischance, Seifer was _also_ Squad B.

_Okay, so I'm not very happy with Seifer these days _either,_ but still. There are some things I just don't want to be in the middle of. And besides- Huh?_ Her thoughts ground to an almost audible stop. _Wait a sec, did she say-?!_

Another smile from the Instructor, this time at the way Rinoa was imitating a landed fish. "Congratulations, Rinoa. Or should I say, Captain Heartilly? It's quite a responsibility, but you wouldn't have been chosen for it if the faculty didn't think you had the potential."

Rinoa nodded dumbly, but didn't trust herself to speak. In any field exam, there would be no more than four squads, and only four squad captains. After graduation, it would likely be years before a SeeD had a chance to shoulder that level of responsibility or exercise that kind of authority again.

For some, the field exam was the only chance they got.

_And I'm one of them. One of the people Garden thinks has the potential to not just fight, but lead. The first step on the road to the equivalent of the General's position…_

Even the thought of the General couldn't quite alloy Rinoa's cascading emotions, which eventually settled on pride. This, _this_ was what she'd been training for all these years. Beyond the simple pursuit of survival skills that had driven her to this path longer ago than she could really remember, it was the recognition of her peers and the opportunity to lead them -to prove she _could_ lead them- that she wanted. Craved, she sometimes thought.

SeeDs were mercenaries. Everyone knew that. But Rinoa knew SeeD wasn't just about making money; not even they took on just any job. In Rinoa's mind, to lead SeeDs in combat was to be one of those helping to make the world a better place.

_A place where there aren't more people like me. Where there aren't more places like Timber._

Rinoa drew herself sharply to attention, lifting her hand in the peculiar salute unique to SeeD; in that moment, her uneasiness with Quistis Trepe didn't matter a bit. "I'll do my best, Ma'am," she said crisply.

Quistis nodded, still smiling. "I'm sure you will."

* * *

Squall didn't especially care about the byplay. What some girl he didn't know thought about being named captain of a squad that wasn't his, wasn't his concern. Even if Seifer had some kind of interest in the girl, that wasn't anything he gave much of a damn about.

Being teamed with Zell Dincht? That was another matter. Squall didn't pay attention to a great many people; contrary to popular belief, that wasn't actually because he disliked the human race in general, but more a matter of general disinterest. Disinterest, and… something he couldn't quite remember, but was sure was important.

Regardless. He didn't actually dislike all that many people. He mostly just didn't care much either way. That girl he'd helped orient earlier in the day, for one, had almost been fun. So yeah. Squall pushed people away, but it wasn't necessarily because he didn't like them.

Zell, now… Normally, Squall wouldn't have cared. But he'd meant exactly what he'd said to Quistis: Zell was loud. Squall didn't really like loud. Worse still…

"Hey. Heard you had another fight with Seifer this morning!" Zell shook his head; he was still smiling, not terribly put out by Squall's refusal to shake his hand, but now he was looking a little exasperated. "C'mon, you gotta know by now that that's not gonna do any good. Just ignore him, and he'll go away."

…Worse still, he was another of those who liked to express opinions about Squall's… issues… with Seifer. _Stop reading those self-help books and mind your own business, Zell,_ he thought irritably.

He was still considering exactly how to respond, if at all, when Quistis cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but… That Seifer you're talking about?" She coughed lightly. "He's your squad leader."

Squall just… stared. He noted with a corner of his mind that the news was actually enough to startle the girl in the male uniform out of her euphoria, but mostly he was focused on staring. Wondering, idly, if looks really _could_ kill.

Zell… was not quite so restrained. _"Are you freaking KIDDING ME?!"_

* * *

That Seifer's half-jibing prediction had actually come true, that _both_ of them were actually squad leaders, startled Rinoa. It wasn't _bad,_ exactly -she _would_ have hated it if Seifer had been her squad leader- but it was definitely surprising. Seifer had never struck her as a prophet, after all. And really, the idea of _Seifer Almasy_ as a squad leader was just… just…

Zell's subsequent exclamation, though, broke through the shock and her doubled over laughing. _Okay, okay. Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe they'll even kill each other, and save me from Seifer's… Seiferness. Maybe it's not so strange, either; they _did_ actually made him head of the Disciplinary Committee, after all. Maybe the faculty's thinking the same thing I am, and trying to find out if he can at least give orders well, even if he can't follow them._

_And… speak of the devil._

With Zell still shaking with an amusing mix of shock and rage, and the gunblader apparently trying to kill Quistis with his eyes, none other than Seifer and his self-described posse were approaching, having broken free of the small mob of students still meandering up. As expected, the tall blonde hadn't bothered to change into his uniform; and, as ever, he was looking sublimely confident, and he'd evidently caught some of what was being said.

"A captain, am I?" He grinned. "Well, well, Instructor. I see my talents have finally been recognized." He nodded briefly to Squall -who, despite everything, returned it with a miniscule inclination of his head- and offered a disdainful look to Zell. His gaze, then, fixed itself on Rinoa. "And Rinoa! Are you under my command, too, or…?"

"A captain, Seifer," she assured him, levity vanishing abruptly. "Squad A." Her hand moved inconspicuously to rest on her MilSpec.

"The Intelligence squad," Quistis specified. "Most the other details will be covered during the trip, but I can tell you, Seifer, that the three of you are Squad B. Rinoa, your squad will be yourself, Selphie Tilmitt, and Nida Ozzel."

Rinoa nodded thoughtfully. Selphie was good news; they hadn't known each other long, but they'd been getting along quite well so far. _Nida Ozzel… Think I've seen him around a couple of times. Kind of a bland guy, likes vehicles and submachine guns…? Well, I think I can work with him, anyway._

"Congratulations." For once, Seifer's nod at Rinoa was not the smug ribbing he normally directed at her these days. "Let's see how good we are, eh?"

"You will," Quistis interjected. Wondering, and not for the first time, what exactly the history between Rinoa and Seifer was, she smiled politely. "Good luck, to you both."

Rinoa smiled in thanks, but Seifer was another matter. "Please, Instructor," he said, with a gesture of mock injury, "that hurts! 'Luck' is something you wish for people who need a little help. Save it for the poor captains who actually need it."

_Figures,_ Rinoa thought, amusement once again in abeyance. _Seifer's a natural to be a 'knight'. If he weren't at Garden, he'd make a great stage actor._

Quistis' smile, this time, wasn't quite her usual, practiced, professional look. "All right, then… Good luck, _Seifer."_

Seifer's smug humor vanished like a switch had been flipped. Sweeping one arm out in a typically forceful gesture, he turned his head toward his "posse". "Add Instructor Trepe to the list," he said, voice cold.

Rinoa blinked, and shared her first glance with Squall: one of perplexity. _The list…? _What_ list?_

There was no longer time to worry about it, though. Selphie was bounding toward her, followed more sedately by the amazing nondescript Nida; the other teams were also forming up, and a handful of full SeeDs were assembling behind them.

In front of them, Headmaster Cid Kramer was coming down from the elevator.

* * *

Students of Garden didn't see the headmaster very often. Especially not students of the farther-flung Gardens. Nominally the commander-in-chief of all of SeeD, Cidolfus Kramer focused heavily on the management of Balamb Garden proper; Rinoa couldn't recall seeing him at Galbadia more than two or three times in all the years she'd trained there. Selphie could only remember one appearance he'd made at Trabia.

Even within Balamb Garden, Cid usually seemed busy with the administrative details attendant to the world's premier mercenary organization. He spent most of his time up on the third floor, where students were rarely permitted, presiding over matters even full SeeDs weren't entirely privy to.

A forty-ish man of medium height, with dark brown hair and glasses, dressed as one might expect a bookstore owner to. The image of a mercenary commander or even major financier, he was not; but Rinoa happened to know looks could be quite deceiving. Whatever he was today, Colonel Cidolfus Kramer had once been Balamb's greatest defender, during the Sorceress War.

Rinoa didn't think much on most of her own past, but she still remembered some things the General had said, years ago. She didn't remember the entire context, but some of it had stuck very firmly.

"_If there is any man I would trust with something truly important, Rinoa, it's Colonel Kramer. Balamb is one of the smallest nations in this world, yet it withstood Esthar's assaults during the War. Made it too expensive for them to overrun without devoting forces needed against Galbadia and Dollet. Colonel Kramer is the reason for that. Whatever he may look like now… that's a very strong man."_

Supposedly, Rinoa had heard since, Cid had even been a gunblade specialist, once upon a time. His appearance now belied that, but if so… He might not be in the shape he once was, but Cid Kramer still knew his stuff.

All in all, she was inclined to believe the stories. SeeD was _the_ premier mercenary force in the world, feared even by the Galbadian military. If _they_ respected such an apparently unassuming man, it seemed safe to assume there was a reason for it.

Now, in Balamb Garden's lobby, that old soldier was coming to address his troops.

Four columns of cadets, three ranks deep. Another three-by-three formation behind them, wearing the black and deep blue of full SeeDs. A number of cadets and SeeDs along the near curves of the central walkway, and some -like Raijin and Fuujin- hanging around the sides of the main formation itself. They waited, with the kind of fluid tension that was SeeD on the job.

Cid Kramer came down before them, stopping in front of the directory. Looking over the assembled students and cadets, he brought his hand up into SeeD's trademark salute. Then, when they'd returned it crisply, he relaxed his pose with a smile.

"It's good to see you all," he said warmly. "I don't get to see most of you enough; too much paperwork in this job, and all that…" Cid chuckled. "Ah, but that's the complaint of an old man, too long off the battlefield. I trust all of you are doing well? Good, because this is the most significant moment of your lives here at Garden. If you graduate, there will be missions aplenty, but there is only ever one graduation.

"Of course," he said with another smile, "that presupposes you _do_ succeed in this exam, and that is never a sure thing." Cid's eyes seemed to linger on Seifer for a moment, though Rinoa admitted that might have been her imagination. "You are, however, well-trained, and talented. If you were not, you would never have reached this moment. Believe in yourselves. Remember your training."

The older man cleared his throat. "This is the field exam of SeeD. As with any military, we believe in training harder than you ever expect to fight in real combat; unlike other organizations, real combat _is_ SeeD's final exam. You are not considered true SeeD until you've proven yourself under fire.

"Some of you," Cid said, eyes somber, "may not survive that test. Some of you _will_ not survive the battles to come. That is axiomatic in war."

Cid looked sad at that, but unflinching. Rinoa wasn't surprised; he had a reputation for being deeply caring toward his subordinates, but also unafraid to throw them into the meat grinder if that was what it took. She remembered, vaguely, the slogan of another mercenary outfit she'd heard of once:

"_You are in the Legion to die and we will send you where you can die."_

That wasn't quite the attitude of SeeD, but…

"I don't expect you to die on this mission, of course," Cid continued, more brightly. "The exam is meant to be trial by fire, not by attrition. There are four squads, A through D, consisting of three cadets each. You will be given objectives commensurate with your expected skill; important, but not insurmountable; and your training will serve you in good stead." He nodded at the three ranks behind the cadets. "In the event that you are not able to carry out your objectives, the nine SeeDs who are accompanying you _will_ succeed." He smiled. "They always do."

Left unstated, of course, was the near-certainty of failing the exam in the process. That was a given, unless failure was due to external factors. _Or,_ Rinoa thought, _the squad captain's orders messing things up for otherwise qualified subordinates…_

"You will receive full briefings en route, via assault craft. I can, however, inform you that your destination is the Dollet Dukedom's capital, Dollet itself. They are dealing with a minor invasion problem, and have contracted with SeeD to deal with it."

_So. I wondered when it would come to this._ Rinoa maintained her professional mask, but inwardly grimaced. _I'm surprised it took this long. Galbadia's wanted Dollet for a long time. Still… Only nine SeeDs and twelve cadets…?_

Cid was giving the cadets another somber once-over, and was apparently satisfied with what he found there. "This is it, ladies and gentlemen. The culmination of what you've been training for all these years. Life and death! Victory and defeat! Honor and disgrace! These are your choices, one hand-in-hand with the other." He spread his arms wide. "The pride of SeeD, the elite mercenaries of Garden, is at stake! Go… and come back alive."

* * *

It was one of the oddities of SeeD, probably related to how much time they spent doing undercover work instead of full-on assaults, that the squads departed for Balamb Town not in Armored Personnel Carriers, but ordinary cars. Galbadia Garden, Rinoa knew, _would_ have used APCs for the job; they had at least one car like these, but she could only ever remember it being used by Master Martine.

_It's weird,_ she thought, as the small convoy hummed down the road toward Balamb, _just how different things are between Gardens. Balamb is so much more comfortable than Galbadia… It's good to be back._

She was spending the trip mostly resting, knowing that the civilian cars were far smoother on the road than the assault craft would be on the sea. They were fast, and eminently seaworthy, but too small to be anything remotely like "comfortable" if the weather was anything but totally calm. And Dollet was about three days away, even at their speeds.

Nida, as unassuming as ever, was listening to music on headphones, perusing a magazine about ground-effect vehicles; a submachine gun was casually slung over one shoulder. On his belt hung a pouch Rinoa recognized as carrying a variety of highly specialized hacking and surveillance tools.

Selphie was… being Selphie. Not quite able to sit still, bearing the distracted air of someone checking over her Junctions. Rinoa remembered that the spunky girl had a high rating at the controls of several of the vehicles SeeD was known to employ, and suspected Selphie was having a bad case of backseat driver.

"So," Selphie finally said, unable to distract herself with Junctions any longer, "do either of you have any idea what's going on with Dollet? I mean, it's probably Galbadia attacking and all…"

"It's Galbadia," Rinoa replied with an indifferent shrug. "Ever since the Sorceress War they've been expansionist. Some say it's a reaction to Adel and her ambitions, trying to get more territory as a buffer; I think it's just greed. The whole President-for-Life stuff…" She grimaced. "Dollet wouldn't be the first place they've snapped up. If anything, I'm surprised it's taken them this long to get to them."

"I've heard Timber's been giving them problems ever since they took the place," Selphie pointed out. "Too busy with that, maybe?"

"Maybe," Rinoa granted. "I… know a fair bit about what the situation is like, and yeah, they have to keep a lot of pressure there just to hold on. Still, they've found time to go after most of the other city-states in the region." She thought about it some more, then shrugged. "It's Vinzer Deling, Selphie. That's probably what it comes down to. However competent the military may be, their policies are pretty much subject to his whims."

"Ah." Selphie chewed on that for a second, and finally nodded. "I've heard a bit about him, even in Trabia. Um… not really a nice guy, is he?"

"No." _That's an understatement._ "No, Selphie, he's not. There's a prison just for 'political' criminals out in the Dingo Desert, and has been since at least the end of the Sorceress War. And let's not forget that civil war twelve or thirteen years ago…" She trailed off. "Yeah. He's… not nice."

Rinoa left it at that, and Selphie, though clearly puzzled, dropped the subject.

The newly-minted squad captain didn't realize it was because of the expression of bitterness that flashed across her face.

* * *

The country of Balamb was a small island, mostly of plains and forest, ringed along two coasts with mountains. Esthar had made a brief but determined attempt to conquer it during the Sorceress War, but only, as near as anyone could tell, as a forward base or simply to complete the collection. It didn't exactly have much in the way of strategic value.

Or perhaps, as some locals claimed, Adel had wanted a nice vacation home. Balamb wasn't very valuable strategically, but the scenery was breathtaking by any standard.

There were a couple of major military bases in the northern mountains and eastern cliffs, but the "capital" that was Balamb Town was probably the sleepiest place this side of Winhill. A few car loads of SeeDs and cadets was about the most exciting thing to happen in weeks, but it didn't really count; since the Sorceress War, SeeD practically _was_ the defense force of Balamb. Having them come through town was business as usual.

Rinoa idly looked out the window as the car wound through the quiet streets. She'd always felt Balamb was more like a fishing village than a capital, and it seemed the locals felt the same; to this day she _still_ didn't know where the government actually sat. Maybe _they_ spent most of their time fishing, too?

Seagulls were crying, the scent of fish and sea was in the air. SeeD passing by was greeted only with the occasional wave, not considered significant enough to interrupt the usual business of a fishing town.

Rinoa had always liked Balamb. It wasn't as busy or regulated as Deling City; it wasn't the place of gloomy occupation that was Timber, or the dozen or so other city-states Galbadia had conquered. It just… was. If she hadn't been committed to SeeD, she'd always thought, _this_ would've been the place to live.

This was also the place SeeD used as their jumping-off point to the rest of the world. Turning a corner around the only "hotel" in Balamb actually worthy of the name, the car came into view of Balamb's true major attraction: its harbor. Mostly occupied by the fishing fleet that Balamb was known for, a couple of miles down could be seen their small coastal defense "fleet".

Right here, not too far from the fishing boats, rested Garden's own assault craft.

Some of the other cars had already come to a halt, disgorging cadets and SeeDs alike; now Squad A's transport did the same, letting Rinoa finally stretch her legs and smell the sea air directly. _And the fish. Hoo boy, do I smell fish._

"Here we go, Cap'n," breathed Selphie, quiet now that departure was actually upon them. "…I hope we don't get seasick."

Leading the way toward the fleet little ships, Rinoa chuckled. "Yeah. These get a little rough, don't they? I haven't been on one for this kind of trip before, either."

They were undeniably sleek, the SeeD assault craft. Low to the water, they resembled submarines -of which, Rinoa knew, SeeD actually had one or two- but were actually a sort of hydrofoil landing craft. Made to ride the waves, they'd come right up onto the beach to deliver their lethal cargo of commandos. When SeeD went to open war, they liked to do it with panache and speed: these boats were tailor-made for amphibious blitzkrieg.

Squads C and D, Rinoa saw, had already filed aboard their transports, and those craft were already pulling out; behind them, the slightly tardy Squad B was making haste. _Seifer,_ she thought with all too familiar exasperation. _Always has to make an entrance._

Picking up the pace, she made her way over to Squad A's designated craft. "Okay," she said over her shoulder to her squad. "Let's move out."

Captain Rinoa Heartilly, SeeD Candidate Squad A, ducked into the assault craft and made ready for her first taste of war.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

* * *

Ahem. The Shark's first _real_ foray into _Final Fantasy VIII_ fics, despite being a big fan of the game for something on the order of thirteen years. (If anyone remembers another story I may have once done here, please expunge it from your memory; it was a hideous abomination that should never have existed.)

Anyway. Not much to say, at the beginning of a fic, save for my inspiration for the story. I was playing through it for about the millionth time, 'bout a year back, and got to the scene where Martine is giving out the orders for the Sorceress Assassination mission. I got to where Rinoa said, "Just pretend I'm a SeeD, okay?" And I thought to myself: "What would the story be like if she really _was_ a SeeD?"

The answer? Hell if I know, yet. I'm making up a lot of this as I go along. I got a general framework, but even I don't yet know how I'm gonna handle things from about the beginning of Disc 3 on. Hopefully I can channel the spirit of Victor Cachat for that part.

To those familiar with my other work, rest assured, my big projects are _not_ abandoned. I've just been going through a _very_ rough time in my life, and felt diving back into something from when I was younger might help soothe my soul a bit. The other stuff will be attended to sooner or later, even *gasp!* _Cry of the Falcon._

Guess that's about it. Lemme know if this is any good, and above all, comrades: _To thine own self be true."_ -Solid


End file.
